Free Conquer the Night by Heather Graham Page B

prey to slaughter, again and again. We must fight; it is simple survival.”
    â€œBut do we fight all our lives?” Ragnor asked wearily. “Is there hope for us other than homes beneath the trees in the forests where we run when we can’t outfight the might of the English? For surely you realize you have been an outlaw, you have refused to sign the oath—but with this siege you will make a real enemy of the English king. You will find all your holdings seized.”
    Ragnor was basically right. It had been soon after the sacking of Berwick that Edward had demanded that every landholder in Scotland sign an oath of allegiance. Many men had refused to do so—though more than two thousand had, among them most of the men who would be claimants to the throne when the time came for a new king to rise among the contenders. Many men who had not signed the oath had been slain by English officials planted in Scotland. Arryn remained certain his own father had been murdered by Englishmen, though he feared he would never have the proof of it.
    Just as Angus Darrow had meant to murder him.
    But some had avoided the oath and survived, and like him, were becoming more open daily in their rebellion.
    â€œNo,” he said to Ragnor. “The king can seize what he will. Taking land and holding it are two different things. One day Scotland will be ours. And besides, what can any man now take from me? Nothing is left of my land but charred ruins and burned fields. Even our people who have survived have sought shelter in the forest at the base of the mountains.”
    â€œYou still provide for them.”
    â€œWe steal for them.”
    â€œWe plunder English baggage trains and take back what is ours.”
    â€œTrue. But eventually we will regain our country.”
    â€œIs that a dream we live or a truth to be hoped for?” Ragnor queried.
    â€œAre you becoming a pessimistic poet rather than a warrior?” Arryn demanded.
    Ragnor grinned. “I? I come from a long line of reckless berserkers—men who would fight when they didn’t even know what they were fighting for. So I say, let’s pray we live to see this Scotland for the Scots.”
    â€œAye!”
    â€œAnd we’ll drink to life, eh?” Ragnor said. “The ale here is exceptional.” He poured from a large keg of ale into two tankards, giving one to Arryn, then raising his own and drinking deeply.
    â€œTo life!” Arryn agreed, and drained his tankard. His head, he realized, was beginning to split. He had been awake all night. It was a new day. He wanted nothing more than a deep and dreamless sleep for a few hours of forgetfulness. He was crusted in blood, and he longed for a steaming bath as well. “Ragnor, summon a servant, whomever you have found most trustworthy. Who guards the tower above?”
    â€œYoung Niall of Perthshire. Thomas Grant watched until dawn, and now it is Niall who is there.”
    â€œGood. Have him keep the watch until midday; then give it to Joshua Martin. Keep the men with the sharpest eyes on the wall as well. I don’t expect trouble by night, but …”
    â€œI’ll stay awake myself until midday, then have Jay keep watch over all. You need have no fear, Arryn. We’ll watch your back well for you to get some sleep.” He hesitated. “You’re taking the tower?”
    â€œAye. Why?”
    Ragnor stared into the flames. “Well, I do not deny you the business of revenge, but …” he hesitated again. “I find her very strange, the lady of Seacairn. Not what we expected.”
    â€œReally?” Arryn inquired, annoyed that anyone’s opinion of Darrow’s betrothed should matter to him.
    â€œCome, Arryn, we thought to find either a simpering, inbred idiot or a cold, calculating shrew determined on pushing Darrow into taking every last drop of blood possible to increase their worth to Edward. She is neither. She is intriguing,